


On The Long Way Down

by grapeflavoredorange



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge, Rivalry, Shido's palace, Whump, abuse tw, angery akira, blood mention, in this house we don't like akechi, no cognitive akechi au, post-interrogation room, spoilers for 11/20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapeflavoredorange/pseuds/grapeflavoredorange
Summary: Sojiro Sakura was put in charge of an unruly delinquent on probation.That doesn't stop him from caring.Akira Kurusu is the most wanted criminal in Japan.That doesn't stop him from breaking.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 187





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii i know i haven't updated my other stories in over a month but after going through the interrogation room scene for the third time i just couldn't stop myself from writing something about it because i love akira kurusu with all my heart and soul but that won't stop me from bringing him Pain
> 
> there WILL be a happy ending soon though. this'll likely be 2 or 3 chapters long and then i SWEAR i'll get back to my current works, if anyone is still interested in them.

The car was cold and dark. 

Akira felt like his head was spinning, but he was moving forward. He opened his eyes to see he was laying down in the back seat of a taxi, his vision clouded, and every part of his body throbbing with a dull pain. He could see someone familiar in the passenger seat, a woman- Sae? She was still here? 

Almost as if she knew he was staring at her, Sae turned around in her seat to look at Akira. He couldn’t see very well, but she looked both worried and surprised that he was already awake. “We’re not there yet,” she told him. Akira rubbed his eyes and tried to speak, but she reached out and touched his arm, silencing him. “Don’t worry, I have your phone and your glasses up here. We’ll be back home soon, don’t worry.” 

Don’t worry, she kept telling him. Worry about what? Akira turned over and rubbed his neck, trying to remember why he was in the car at all. He felt bruises and cuts and dried blood and tiny wounds from when… when…

_ Oh,  _ he thought to himself.  _ That’s right. _

☁ ☁ ☁

_ The steely gray of the interrogation room… _

_ The cold, ugly brightness of the ceiling lamp above the knocked-over table… _

_ The sharp, intense pain from the needles and the knuckles and the kicks... and.... _

_ And… _

_ “Should we give him another shot?” _

_ The metallic taste burned in his mouth, and Akira let out a sharp whine of pain. He felt something being jabbed into his neck, almost carelessly, and it sent white-hot pain through his body. He coughed and blearily lifted his head to look at the blurry figures standing over him, feeling blood dripping out of his mouth and onto the floor. Their evil smiles and cold stares sent a horrible chill down his spine.  _

_ “Looks like he’s not quite awake yet,” came one of their voices, and before Akira could react, he felt a foot collide heavily with his chest, throwing him into the wall. He coughed again and tried to raise his hands to protect himself, but the handcuffs were still there, and moving his hands reminded him of how tight they were, and it hurt so badly, he just wanted it to stop- _

_ “Rise and shine,” the tallest one sneered. Akira blinked several times to try and clear his vision, but before he could react, he felt a hand grab him roughly by the scruff of his neck and pull him into an upright position, then throwing him back against the wall. Akira cried out in pain, feeling another blow to the chest. “Ready for another round?” Akira opened his mouth to answer, but the detective only punched him again, pushing him to the floor, and he screamed. _

_ “Tch. Keep crying.” The detective scoffed and placed his foot on Akira’s head as if he were trying to push him into the floor. “Can’t believe someone this weak was able to get away with all those crimes.” Another kick in the stomach. Akira was nearly out of breath, trying not to choke on his own blood and tears, he was so cold, everything hurt so much- _

_ ☁ ☁ ☁ _

“Hey!”

The sound of a familiar female voice (was it Sae?) jolted Akira back to his senses. He wasn’t in the interrogation room anymore. He was in the car. In the car with Sae. In the car with Sae on his way back home. 

And everything hurt.

“Are you okay?” Sae asked, concern in her voice. Akira rubbed his eyes (god, his wrists hurt so badly) and looked at her, his vision still blurred. “Where… where are we?” he asked. His words were slurred. Not good. 

Sae frowned and gestured at the window. “We’re home- back at Leblanc,” she said. “Sakura-san is waiting for you.” Akira sat up slowly (his chest was burning with pain, his vision was getting worse, did they break his ribs?) and ran a hand through his hair. He could feel small bits of dried blood here and there and had to wipe his hand on his shirt (why was it so damp? Are these stains all blood?). Gross. Akira was taken back to reality again at the sound of Sae’s voice, and he turned his head to look at her, cringing at the pain he felt in his neck. “I’m going to walk you inside. You’re in no position to go back in there on your own.” That was fine. He didn’t think he would even be able to stand on his own, anyways. She helped him out of the car and awkwardly guided him through the door of the cafe. Akira could see the fuzzy outline of Sojiro waiting anxiously behind the bar and felt Sae press something into his hands (perhaps his phone and glasses?) before he suddenly saw and felt no more.

  
  


☁ ☁ ☁

Sae didn’t stay at Leblanc for long after explaining everything to Sojiro in brief. He had spent about six hours in the interrogation room, and he had been drugged heavily. He felt fury rising in his chest when she told him- Akira was just a teenager! 

“Kurusu is probably the most wanted criminal in Japan right now,” she told him. “You’d better keep him safe.” _ What else had they done to him down there? _ He wanted to ask, but at the same time, he didn’t want to know the answers. Better to hear it from Akira anyways. When Sae finished, she placed something in Akira’s hands, told Sojiro to take care of him, and left. After Sae let go of him, Akira said something Sojiro couldn’t understand- his words were slurred and incoherent from the drug- and collapsed into the nearest booth, dropping the things Sae had given him (his phone and glasses, poor kid was lucky they didn’t break). Sojiro clumsily carried Akira upstairs and laid him down on the bed, setting his things down on the shelf next to it, then carefully inspecting him. His school shirt and blazer were completely soaked in blood, and his unruly black hair was clinging to his forehead with sweat. His lip was broken and bleeding, there were bruises all over his face and hands (and probably more under his clothes, too), and upon very careful inspection, Sojiro noticed what looked like several needle wounds in Akira’s neck- just what had they done to this kid? He sighed quietly and pulled the blanket over him- it was the least he could do for now- then carefully walked across the room and down the stairs. He would wait for Akira to wake up and be able to speak cohesive sentences before he asked him any more questions. Yes, that was the right thing to do, Sojiro reassured himself as he got started with dinner, feeling guilty for not being able to help the kid more. He was only sixteen, and by the looks of it, had gotten beaten by those damn cops, and it was all Sojiro’s fault for not keeping a closer eye on him. He should have felt lucky that Futaba had gotten out safely, and he did, but why could he not stop himself from worrying about Akira, the delinquent who was supposed to be nothing but trouble? 

Sojiro didn’t know. 

But that wouldn’t stop him from caring.

  
  


It wasn’t long after Sojiro had finished with his dinner when he heard noises coming from upstairs. He jumped out of his seat and bolted up the stairs, only to be met with the sight of Akira sitting up in bed, breathing heavily and clinging to his forehead. “Kid, what’s wrong, what-” Sojiro started, but he was cut off by a sudden outburst from the boy- he was starting to hyperventilate, and even from the landing Sojiro could see Akira’s nails digging into his forehead-

“Hey, stop! Calm down!” Sojiro yelled, rushing over to help him. He pried Akira’s hands away from his face, but Akira just pushed him back and glared at him, pure anger and terror in his eyes. “G-Get away!” he snarled, backing up against the wall and hugging his legs. “Go away! Let me go! D-Don’t hurt me!” His words were still slightly slurred from the drugs, but he sounded angry and scared, and Sojiro took a step back, watching him. Akira was breathing even heavier now, the terrified look in his eyes intensified by the dark circles and bruises and blood on his face, and once again, Sojiro felt furious. Furious at the bastard cops who had done this to Akira, the “evil leader of the dangerous Phantom Thieves”, who was just a sixteen year-old boy, furious at the world, furious at himself for letting it all happen in the first place. He stared at him for a moment, waiting for his breathing to slow down, and then carefully took a step forward and gently took a hold of Akira’s wrists. They were bruised and bloody, definitely from the handcuffs, and Sojiro hated it. He wanted to murder those bastard cops. “Hey, calm down,” he said in a near-whisper. “It’s me. You’re back at Leblanc. You’re safe, Akira.” He kept his voice low, for he knew that raising his voice even slightly raising his voice could send the boy into another panic attack. However, it seemed like it wasn’t low enough. 

“N-no!” Akira whimpered, pushing Sojiro away and backing into the corner. “Y-You’re going to hurt me! Don’t t-touch me! Let me go!” His voice broke and he hugged his legs again, hiding his head in his arms. Sojiro felt his heart breaking at the sound of Akira’s muffled whines, and tried to speak again, lowering his voice significantly, whispering comforts to the scared boy, not letting him go. 

“I-I’m scared,” he sobbed, looking up at Sojiro. Akira had started to cry. “It hurts… Everything hurts so much…” Sojiro could do nothing but sit down on the bed and watch as Akira slowly inched his way towards him, eventually resting his head against his guardian’s shoulder as his sobs grew louder and his words became more slurred. “It hurts… it hurts so bad... ” he whined, flinching even as Sojiro rubbed his arm. “I want it to stop… M-make it stop… Please, I don’t want this anymore…” 

Sojiro would  _ never  _ forgive them.

☁ ☁ ☁

There wasn’t much Sojiro could do besides stay there and comfort Akira, but it was hard, for he wouldn’t let anyone touch him for more than a few seconds. He had another outburst when Sojiro came to check on him the next morning, and again when Takemi came over later in the day. She looked truly bewildered as she watched him shaking violently and lashing out when Sojiro tried touching him. He briefly explained to her what happened, and she swore not to say another word to anyone, and Sojiro saw the same kind of anger in her eyes that he had felt the previous night when he found out what had happened to Akira. When she was finished, she told him that he was extremely lucky; he had suffered heavy trauma to his head and chest, but none of Akira’s bones were broken, and he would likely be diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. Sojiro only calmed down when she told him there would be no bill, and that she would be back soon with medicine that was “guaranteed to work”. He trusted her, on one condition; absolutely no needles. Takemi agreed and left, leaving a frustrated Sojiro and trembling Akira in her wake.

“W-What did she say about n-needles?”

Sojiro turned around to see Akira starting to sit up, but he immediately let out an uncomfortable shriek of pain and laid back down on his side, his eyes beginning to tear up again. Sojiro rushed over and gently laid his hand on Akira’s shoulder, shushing him and whispering comforts to him once again. “No, no, no, it’s okay, there are no needles,” he said in a hushed voice. “No shots. No drugs. No cops. You’re safe.” Akira nodded and bit his lip, cringing. “I th-thought I heard something about n-needles…” he whined, his voice shaking. Sojiro shook his head and gently stroked Akira’s hair. “No, you don’t need to worry. It was just Takemi promising that there weren’t going to be any shots. That’s all.” Akira let out a quivering sigh, and to Sojiro’s relief, he relaxed slightly. Sojiro stayed kneeling at the bed next to him, waiting for Akira’s breathing to slow, feeling disgusted at the clumps of dried blood he was finding in the boy’s hair. “Hey, kid, I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but I think it would be a good idea to wash up soon…” he said. Akira raised his head slightly. “Don’t worry, you can do it at my place,” Sojiro assured him. “You’re going to have to do it eventually, and staying in those clothes certainly isn’t going to help you.” He sighed and waited for Akira to answer. He laid his head back onto the pillow, and winced. “I… I don’t think…” he started, but stopped, suddenly biting his lip at what must have been another surge of pain. Sojiro stood up and sighed. “It’s okay, I understand,” he said. “I’ll let you rest for a little longer, but you’re not going to bed tonight until you’re clean.” Sojiro turned around and started towards the stairs, turning to look at Akira again, who had since turned over in bed slightly and closed his eyes. Sojiro turned to the stairs and went back down to the cafe.  _ He’s going to be fine,  _ he thought, collapsing into a booth and rubbing his eyes. Maybe it was too soon to try and get Akira out of bed, but he had to try  _ something. _

_ It’s the least I can do. _


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t until late that night when Sojiro heard creaking sounds coming from upstairs. 

He had long since closed the cafe (he had opened it once Akira had fallen back asleep), and had been waiting for the kid to wake up for a while. The least he could do now was get him to clean himself up so he would be slightly less uncomfortable, but it was almost like the kid was staying asleep on purpose to avoid having to move any more. Immediately upon hearing the sounds from the attic, Sojiro jumped out of his seat and ran up the stairs, only to be greeted with the sight of Akira curled up in the corner of his bed again, shaking.

Sojiro sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Are you okay?” he called to the scared teen across the room, getting only a muffled whimper in response. “Can I come near you?” Sojiro asked, not moving from his spot at the top step, waiting for an answer. Akira nodded, raising his head slightly above his knees. Taking that as a yes, Sojiro slowly made his way over to the bed and sat next to Akira. “What’s wrong now?” he asked, trying not to sound angry. Akira took a deep, shaky breath and gripped his legs harder, and gave his answer, his voice shaking. “Y-You’re going to use w-w-water to wake me up. Like the c-cops did…” 

Sojiro raised his eyebrows. Using water to wake him up? “I really don’t want to make you relive that again, but if you could just tell me what you mean without dozing off again-” he started, but Akira suddenly jumped and pushed Sojiro away. “N-No! No, I can’t, I’m not, I don’t want another shot, stop it, make it stop, I don’t-” 

Confused and startled, Sojiro stood up and took a step back. _Another outburst,_ he thought. _This one doesn’t seem random though-- what did I say to make him do that?_ He placed his hands gently on Akira’s shoulders, trying to calm him down. “Hey, take it easy!” he said in a rushed whisper. “You’re in Leblanc, remember? You’re safe, I’m not going to hurt you!” It took a moment, but Akira finally calmed down again, and looked up at Sojiro with tears in his eyes. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, and Sojiro felt his heart breaking again. “I just- that’s w-what they said to m-me, they dumped c-cold water on me to wake me up b-because I fell asleep from the drugs and then they asked me if I w-wanted another shot and I was just so s-scared I thought you were gonna do it again and-” he said, his words getting faster and more panicked, but Sojiro stopped him. “Calm down, I get it, okay?” he reassured him, trying to sound calmer than he looked. “I’m not going to dump cold water on you, and I’m definitely not going to give you any shots. You can clean up at my place. I bet Futaba wants to see you, too.” At the mention of Futaba’s name, Akira calmed slightly, and he nodded. Sojiro felt relieved. “Good. Now, let’s get going, shall we?”

☁ ☁ ☁

Akira had never felt like more of a burden than when Sojiro helped him back to the Sakura residence. He tried leaning on him, but he collapsed halfway through and Sojiro had to carry him the rest of the way. _How pathetic,_ he thought to himself as the man struggled to unlock the door and hold Akira steady at the same time. _If only they could see the dangerous leader of the Phantom Thieves now._ When they entered the house, Sojiro gently placed Akira on the couch and told him to wait, because he would be heading back to the cafe to bring him a clean change of clothes. Akira felt like his body was on fire. The pain was almost as bad as it was back in the interrogation room, so bad that he couldn’t even keep his eyes open. He could hear Futaba’s bedroom door opening slowly and her tiptoeing down the hallway, but he didn’t want to worsen the pain and lift his head up to greet her. Just laying on the couch and waiting for Sojiro to come back would be better. However, that didn’t stop him from hearing her remark upon seeing him.

“Akira, you look like shit.”

He smiled for the first time in days, and immediately regretted it, because the cut on his lip reopened, and the metallic taste of blood was back. Yuck. Futaba gasped, and he felt her hand on his shoulder, which caused him to flinch. “Oh my god,” she murmured, most likely looking over his injuries. “What on earth did they do to you?”

“I wish I didn’t know the answer to that.”

It was Sojiro. Akira opened his eyes slightly to see him standing next to Futaba and holding the promised clothes. “Futaba, you help him get to the bathroom, and take these with you.” he said, handing them to her. She looked both confused and upset, but knelt down slightly to let Akira lean on her shoulder, then helped him stand up. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” she reassured them. Akira bit his lip to try to avoid crying out in pain again. He just wanted to go back to bed, but at the same time, he didn’t want to let Sojiro down. He could at least try to clean himself up.

It was the least he could do.

☁ ☁ ☁

Akira didn’t remember much after that. 

After finishing and getting dressed, he passed out, and woke up the next morning in Leblanc’s attic. Akira looked out the window at the gray sky, listening to the gentle drizzle drenching the streets. The room was empty and cold, and Akira could hear the sounds of the television downstairs. Sojiro must have opened the cafe. He sighed and tried to lay back down, but it sent white-hot pain down his back, and he let out an uncomfortable whine of pain. His whole body hurt; his neck, his face, his arms, his legs. Everything hurt. Akira let out a shaky sigh, closing his eyes. _That definitely must have worried the customers,_ he thought. 

_He was so cold…_

_The light was too bright, and the disgusting metallic taste was back, there was a foot pinning him down on the ground, and Akira couldn’t breathe. He coughed and choked, staining the floor with blood, but the detectives just laughed._

_“If only they could see you now.” they sneered. Akira felt someone grab him by his hair, and another fist met his skin, the room turned black and white, and all he could do was scream._

_“If you weren’t so damn loud, we’d be feeling sorry for you,” came the rough voice from above him, and Akira felt himself hit the wall again. They were going to break his bones at this rate, how was nobody unable to hear this? He gasped and coughed, but the detectives were still laughing, he was shaking, he was cold, everything hurt so badly, he was going to die down here..._

Akira felt his heart pounding, and he suddenly opened his eyes. He smelled old wood and coffee, he could hear the voices from downstairs, and he could see the light coming in from the window. He was in Leblanc. Sojiro was downstairs. He was safe.

He buried his face in the blanket, hiding. Every part of his body was shaking, and Akira swallowed thickly, trying not to make too much noise, but it was too late. He had started crying again.

“Hey, Akira? You alright?” 

He looked up and saw Sojiro hurrying up the stairs, his face red with worry. “You scared me!” he said, rushing over towards the bed. “Are you okay? You were so loud, I think all of Yongen heard you.” His voice was soft, like the sounds of the rain outside. He raised his head slowly, still trembling. “Wh-what time is it?” he asked. Before Sojiro could answer, Akira reached over towards the shelf for his phone, but he stopped. His arm hurt too much. Sojiro turned it on for him, and he could see that it was some time after three in the afternoon. He had fallen asleep without realizing, but he certainly didn’t feel like it. He was exhausted. 

He hadn’t been able to sleep well since he got back to Leblanc.

Akira was awake all the time, constantly on guard. If he dozed off even for a moment, he would be back in that horrible room, back on the ground surrounded by needles and jeering detectives and blood. When he couldn’t stay awake any longer, he had nightmares, and would immediately wake up and be back at square one. 

He didn’t want to look at Sojiro. Akira knew that he was worried and angry, and it made him feel like even more of a burden. The man shouldn’t be wasting his time on him. He let out a choked sob and hugged his legs again, burying his face in his arms. It made him feel safe. 

“I-I’m fine,” he lied. His voice was more shaky than ever, and Akira didn’t understand why. He cleared his throat and spoke again, looking straight ahead instead of at Sojiro. “I’m fine… s-sorry that I worried you…” He sounded even more afraid. He didn’t know why. Akira didn’t know why his entire body was shaking, why he had started crying again, why he was so weak. He let out another sob and buried his face in his hands. Akira couldn’t stop, and he could remember the feeling of needles again, of the headaches, of the steely floor of that awful room. He couldn’t stop shaking, he couldn’t stop crying, he could feel Sojiro’s hand on his back and he didn’t even try to push him away. 

He was supposed to be the leader. Leaders didn’t let themselves get beat up like this. Leaders were the ones who did the comforting, leaders had no weaknesses, leaders stood firm. So why was he breaking like this? 

He didn’t know. 

Akira felt Sojiro’s hand stroking his hair again, and although he wanted to stop him, he wanted to push the man away, he didn’t. He couldn’t do anything right now. All he could do was listen, listen to the rain on the window, to the TV downstairs, to Sojiro’s comforting voice. “Nobody will hurt you here, you’re safe, don’t worry…” Akira only buried his head in the blanket again, but he could still hear Sojiro’s voice. “God, kid, what did they do to you?”

It hurt. It hurt so much. 

“Take it easy, calm down, you’re safe.” Sojiro could only repeat those words of comfort so many times until they had no meaning anymore. But Akira felt himself slowly relaxing, he didn’t mind Sojiro’s hand on his head, he didn’t feel so terrified anymore. He wanted Sojiro to stay, he didn’t want to go back to being alone, but it seemed like the man could hear Akira’s thoughts, because he suddenly spoke up.

“I’d love to stay here and help you, but I’ve still got customers downstairs. Don’t worry,” he added, seeing Akira’s worried face, “I haven’t told them what’s going on.” Akira relaxed slightly and laid back down. He felt Sojiro ruffle his hair one last time before heading back down the stairs, and for the first time in days, Akira felt truly calm. He didn’t blame Sojiro for wanting to help him, and maybe in return he could apologize for being so rough whenever the man tried helping him-- it wasn’t much, but it made him feel like less of a burden. 

_It’s all I can do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii i bet you weren't expecting such a quick update but i just Love writing angst so here i am
> 
> if you're wondering why morgana isn't here, he's staying with haru again, because akira didn't want him to see him in such an unstable state, and also i'm terrible at writing morgana. sorry. 
> 
> this chapter's still angsty, and the next one will start off angsty too, but i PROMISE it'll get lighter near the end. i love me some angst but i could never forgive myself for putting akira through all this and not making things right in the end
> 
> if you liked what you read, please let me know by giving kudos/commenting! it really makes me happy knowing that people like what i write!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said that i'd make this have a happy ending but in the end i made it more bittersweet, i hope that's okay
> 
> anyways, enjoy, and thanks for the 100 kudos!

There wasn’t much Akira could do over the following days except for wait. 

Of course, he wasn’t complaining. At first, he felt slightly resentful at the prospect of being stuck in bed doing nothing, but after the rest of the Thieves had visited and they began brewing a plan to take down Shido, he knew he’d need all the rest he could get. All he could do for the time being was make lockpicks, eat, watch old DVDs, and sleep. Akira could feel himself getting better physically, but mentally, he still had a ways to go. Of course, he no longer lashed out at Sojiro and his friends as if they were enemies, but there was still a negative pile of thoughts growing in his head that refused to be ignored. His fear and anxiety had slowly turned into anger and resentment; instead of constantly being on guard, Akira just felt irritated. Whenever he closed his eyes, he was still taken back to that interrogation room, but it was different; the jeering voices and cruel faces of the police were still foggy, but one person stayed clear.

Goro Akechi.

Just thinking about him made Akira’s blood boil. He had known since October that Akechi had been plotting against him, but being forced to pretend that they were teammates, that they were going to disband after they had stolen Sae’s heart, to watch him catch on so quickly and pretend to be the leader… it all infuriated him. Knowing that he was working with Shido only made him want to be able to recover faster so he could beat that “ace detective of justice” to a pulp.

With his physical wounds recovering, Akira had started to help out Sojiro with the cafe again (only ever washing dishes with his back turned to the customers). His anger and hatred had started to show, as Sojiro noted that he constantly had a scowl on his face, but Akira didn’t care. It was bad enough that he was reminded of the bastard whenever he closed his eyes, but as the days went on and Shido’s final keyword still wasn’t getting any clearer, seeing Akechi’s face everywhere and hearing his name no matter where he went only made him angrier and more determined to finish Shido off for good. It definitely didn’t help that many of Leblanc’s regulars were supporters of Shido, and they only ever talked about how much they admired Shido and Akechi’s “justice”. It made Akira want to laugh. Shido’s proposed regime would control public thought and hold complete authority over the weak while letting the elite do whatever they pleased, toying with people’s lives for their own personal gain. It made him sick to think about just how many people in Japan were ready to welcome that with open arms. 

☁ ☁ ☁

Something wasn’t right with Joker.

The thieves knew that after everything that had happened to him in the interrogation room, he would be more dedicated to their next heist as ever, and although they normally would have welcomed such enthusiasm, something just wasn’t  _ right. _

It began to show when they finally discovered the final keyword for Shido’s palace. 

When they heard the familiar “result found” from the Meta-Nav, the group felt the normal excitement and relief they usually did when they guessed all three keywords, but Futaba noticed that Akira reacted differently. He wasn’t wearing his usual scowl or neutral face. He looked  _ angry. _ When they first stepped into the grand entrance hall and Akira became Joker, he made no mistakes moving forward. When they were surprised by the sudden Shadow appearing at the top of the stairs, he said nothing and plunged into the fight head-on. Queen could do nothing but watch as Joker grabbed the beast by its mane and furiously plunged his dagger into its head over and over again until it dissolved into black and purple dust. He stopped to catch his breath, waiting in the spot where the Shadow once stood, then looked back at the others, anger beginning to show in his steely gray eyes. “Well?” he asked, startling them. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!” 

In the days afterward, the Thieves all started noticing new things about their leader that they hadn’t seen before. They had never seen him so determined to keep moving forward, he plunged into every ambush with fire in his eyes, he was violent and ruthless in his fighting that even the ship’s cognitive passengers began to quiet when he passed them by. When he returned to the real world, Akira wouldn’t go to bed immediately as he usually did on days when he went to the Metaverse; he kept himself busy making coffee or lockpicks or Molotov cocktails or whatever would keep his hands busy until he couldn’t anymore. Akira knew his friends were worried about him, but he didn’t care; he’d save the talking about his feelings for after they defeated Shido. He was prepared for everything and anything that came at him, and  _ no one,  _ not even Akechi, would stand in his way.

☁ ☁ ☁

The Shadow “cleaner” was tough, but Joker was tougher. 

He felt no surprise when the cleaner laughed and complimented his fighting style after he had been defeated. Joker knew that he wasn’t one to be messed with anymore. Every hit on a sore spot only made him angrier, and by now, the rest of the Thieves had accepted it. If the Phantom Thieves were supposed to be dangerous criminals, why not have a little fun with it while he could? Joker said nothing as he slipped the final letter into his coat and turned around, ready to leave the engine room. “Come on,” he said, not looking back at the others. “We’re done here. Let’s go find that Treasure.” They nodded and followed him, not knowing that their leader’s fury was about to reach its peak.

Seeing Akechi surprised everyone except Joker. While he ranted, the Thieves listened in horrified awe, but Joker stood firm, tightening his grip on his weapons with every word that left Akechi’s mouth. He could feel his heart pounding, and it was becoming harder and harder to restrain from charging at Akechi by the second. How could he stand there and be  _ proud  _ of murdering and blackmailing and ruining the lives of so many people?! How could he pretend to be an ace detective of justice, yet not show a sliver of remorse for killing Haru’s father or destroying Futaba’s mother’s research, even after admitting he had been commanded to?! How could he be praised as a celebrity and a detective and a hero, but still want more?

“I am an ACE DETECTIVE! A CELEBRITY! But you, you’re just some criminal trash living in an attic!”

Akira had to bite his lip to avoid spitting in rage. He felt as if his fingernails were going to cut through his gloves and pierce his skin with how hard he was gripping his knife-

“SO HOW?! HOW CAN SUCH A WORTHLESS PIECE OF TRASH BE MORE SPECIAL THAN ME?!”

Akechi was breathing heavily, as if he, too, was just as furious as the boy standing across from him. Rusty red eyes met with iron gray, and at that moment, they both knew what had to be done.

“So, Joker, rest easy and die.”

“Think you can really do it?”

Akira had never fought harder in his life.

He commanded the team to fight the Shadows, while he fought Akechi head-on. The others seemed to understand- It was his fight, not theirs. Akechi was fast and agile, but distracted easily. He would stop in one place to scream insults at his opponent, but Joker wasn’t so easily swayed. Every surge of pain he had felt, every tear he had cried, every drop of blood he had shed, every kick he received and blow he had endured only made him stronger. Akira poured every ounce of it into this fight- it had been exactly what he wanted since the very beginning. Every swipe of the knife, every gunshot, whether he landed them or not, filled him with satisfaction. It was difficult to even consider feeling sorry for Akechi as he desperately threw out insult after insult, as his attacks grew weaker and weaker as the rest of the Thieves began helping Joker corner him, and only when he cowered under the barrel of Joker’s pistol did he feel as if he had gone too far. 

“Ready to call it quits?” Skull asked, obviously feeling more remorseful than Joker did. Akechi just nodded. “I know,” he said, defeat in his voice. “I’ve had enough.” Joker simply scoffed. “You can save your begging for mercy,” he snapped. “That’s what your victims tried to do, isn’t it? Yet you ignored them. And look at you now.” Akechi said nothing. His eyes darted all around the room, trying to avoid Joker’s steely gaze. It was silent for a moment, then Joker lowered his pistol and turned around. “Come on,” he barked at his team. “We’re going.” Hearing the tone of his voice, they simply nodded and started towards the stairs. Joker began to follow them, but Akechi shouted something, and he stopped.

“Wait!” he yelled. Akira turned around, looking back at his defeated rival. He watched him open his mouth, but stopped him. “That’s enough,” he snapped. “I have no more words for you.” With that, he turned around and ascended the stairs, leading his team to the assembly hall to finally use the letters. Panther knew it probably wasn’t the best choice, but she just had to ask the leader a question. She tapped Joker’s shoulder nervously, and he turned around, scowling, but his expression softening when seeing her take a step back. “What is it?” he asked, trying to calm his voice. Panther gulped and rubbed her arm awkwardly, not meeting his eyes. “Well, I was just wondering- you seemed to really want to kill Akechi there…” she trailed off, feeling his eyes burning holes into her. “And?” he asked. She jumped slightly, and tried to look at his face, because if she didn’t ask now, she would never know.

“Why didn’t you kill him?”

Joker paused, thinking hard. He could feel the “angry, fearless leader” facade beginning to fade away by the second, and knew that all of his teammates’ eyes were on him. Finally, after a few minutes, he looked up, and took a deep breath. “If I killed him, he wouldn’t be able to admit what he did. He wouldn’t be able to try to start over.”

Mona stared at him, confused. “I thought you hated him, though. Why did you give him a chance like that?”

Joker sighed and stared at the sunken buildings bordering the blood-red sunset on the Palace’s horizon, thinking. Thinking of Sae’s palace, the dangerous and convoluted plan to fake his death, the interrogation room, the anger and hatred he felt upon seeing Akechi’s face, the euphoria of finally being able to face him head-on, of the scared teenager trembling under the barrel of a gun.

“It was the least I could do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize if i disappointed anyone who was waiting for a happy ending, i went through shido's palace again and i felt like i wanted to do this a little differently. besides, as much as i'd like to make it that way, stories about ptsd don't usually end with happiness and fluff, and i've been doing a little bit of a character study on akira and how his "will of rebellion" is fueled by different things at different parts of the game, and i feel like it would be anger more than anything else at this point. so, again, sorry :-/ 
> 
> also this ended up just being me bullying akechi but i really don't like him and this is MY fanfic and *i* get to decide how it goes so i don't care
> 
> if you ended up enjoying it anyways, please let me know! thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this, please give kudos/comments! it really makes me happy knowing that people like what i write! thank you!


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